Blood of the Raven: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Lords of Alekka Book 3)

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Blood of the Raven: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (The Lords of Alekka Book 3) Page 30

by A. E. Rayne


  ‘My brother?’ he asked again, panic tightening his shoulders.

  ‘He is captured, Reinar. A prisoner of a dangerous man with a very curious dreamer. He’s vulnerable. Stuck.’

  ‘What?’ Reinar stepped closer, grabbing a rope to steady himself. ‘Where is he? Where’s everyone else? And Alys?’

  Reinar Vilander’s mind was never far from Alys de Sant, Thenor thought with a wry smile. ‘Alys is another problem altogether, but we can only deal with so many at one time. Forget Alys.’ He saw a flash of annoyance in Reinar’s eyes, and his smile grew. ‘She is safe. Does that put your mind at ease? She is safe for now, and Sigurd is not. Sigurd is not safe at all.’ Thenor was worried. Worried enough to be here, asking for help.

  ‘What about Ludo? Jonas and Vik?’

  ‘They want to help him, I know. They are good men, brave, and more than capable, but Sigurd is being held hostage by a lord with an army. A handful of men are not the rescuers he needs. They will get themselves killed if they try anything.’

  ‘Tell me where he is, then. I’ll go. I’ll turn the ships around!’ Reinar glanced at Bolli, but the old helmsman didn’t even look his way.

  Thenor placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘He was shipwrecked near Torsas. You will turn your ships around, and you will save him. Don’t worry, I will help you, turn the wind in your favour. I can still do that, I believe.’

  Reinar nodded, impatient to begin, though he sensed that there was more.

  Thenor dropped his head, thoughtful now. ‘Your father was more than worthy of my favour, I always saw that. A man with an iron spine and a generous heart. A wise man. Everything I was looking for. I chose him, all those years ago. I chose him to raise my son.’

  Reinar blinked.

  ‘Ragnahild saw who you would become, so it made sense. The future King of Alekka would be a man of power and strength, so it made sense for him to be by your side.’ Thenor lifted his head, hat tilting back now, and Reinar saw his eyes in a beam of moonlight.

  Blue. So blue. Bright and intense.

  Just like Sigurd’s.

  ‘I...’

  ‘While Sigurd remains in that camp with Gudrum’s dreamer, he is in grave danger. The girl is not stupid, just lost. I fear she will see things. Things she won’t understand until it’s too late.’

  Reinar’s mouth had dropped open, and he couldn’t close it. ‘But...’

  ‘Why can’t I rescue him myself?’ Thenor shook his head, hat dropping forward again. ‘But why would I? It would cause questions to be asked by my ever-present enemies. And I don’t want any questions asked about Sigurd. No one knows about him. Not even his own mother.’

  ‘He has a... mother?’

  ‘Doesn’t everyone?’

  Reinar thought of Gerda, nodding. ‘But...’

  ‘Alari is causing trouble, and with her power, there is a lot of potential for danger. I can’t help Sigurd without endangering him, but you can. You must hurry, Reinar. Wake your crew and turn your fleet around. There is no time to delay, for though Sigurd may be trapped in the claw of a dangerous beast, soon it will become even worse. Listen to my voice, and I will lead you to him, but hurry now. Wake up!’

  III

  Father and Son

  27

  The camp was stirring, though Gudrum barely saw a sliver of light in the darkness of his tent. Raf lay curled up beside him like a cat, her head nestled under his chin. He ran his hands over her naked body, enjoying the feel of her tingling flesh. ‘And Reinar Vilander will just come? After his brother? We don’t even need to send a note?’ It made no sense to Gudrum, though the mysterious ways of his dreamer excited him, so he allowed himself to become lost in her spellweaving, smiling as his hands explored her body, lower and lower.

  Raf closed her eyes, arching her back, seeing Sigurd’s face.

  She blinked, sliding away from Gudrum’s fingers, clearing her mind. ‘He will come, you mustn’t worry. I have seen how it will go in my dreams. You mustn’t worry!’ And now she was twitchy and distracted, her body tense and cold.

  Sigurd Vilander had a secret.

  A secret that not even the gods knew.

  And what was she going to do about that?

  The hall was full when Alys and Magnus came down for breakfast, surprising them both. The lord may have left the city, but Mirella was keeping everyone working, ensuring that he would have no complaints upon his return. They couldn’t see Mirella anywhere, but Lotta was sitting on a fur near a brazier, playing with her puppy.

  ‘Mama!’ she cried, jumping to her feet, rushing to embrace Alys. Puddle padded after her, and Magnus picked him up, quickly more enamoured with the little dog than his long-lost sister.

  ‘How are you?’ Alys wondered, squatting down in front of her daughter, who clung to her with a desperation that made her smile.

  Then Lotta saw Magnus holding her puppy. ‘Put him down, Magnus. He’s mine!’

  ‘I’m only holding him,’ Magnus grumbled. ‘Just for a moment.’

  Alys tried to get Lotta’s attention. ‘Where’s Mirella?’

  Lotta shrugged. ‘You’re a better dreamer than me, Mama. Can’t you find her?’

  Alys smiled. ‘I don’t know that I’m a better dreamer than you. What makes you think that?’ She ran her hands through her daughter’s surprisingly tame hair. ‘Who brushed your hair? Not you.’

  Lotta looked sad. ‘Ulrick did, before he left. Then Mirella’s servant, though she’s much rougher than he was. Ulrick knew how to do it properly. Almost as good as you!’

  ‘Ulrick? The man who took you?’

  Lotta nodded, bottom lip quivering. ‘Mirella made him take me. She sent him to take me, but he never knew. And now she’s sent him away with that lord. The one who talks to the heads!’

  The heads were still on the high table, and Alys tried not to catch a glimpse of them. Magnus, still cuddling Lotta’s puppy, couldn’t stop staring.

  ‘And where have they gone?’ Alys wondered quietly, glancing around. The fires burned high, tended by servants who bustled around them with trays, bringing hot flatbreads and bowls of porridge to the high table.

  Lotta slipped out of her mother’s arms, stealing the puppy away from Magnus, who scowled at her, quickly forgetting how much he’d missed her.

  ‘Lotta?’ Alys was on her knees now, trying to get her daughter’s attention, but Lotta just held up the puppy, who licked her lips. ‘Yuck! Lotta!’

  ‘Lotta!’ Magnus was further annoyed. ‘Why don’t you ever listen? How can you be a dreamer if you never listen?’

  Alys smiled, happy to hear them grumble away at each other, and feeling the relief of having her children close again, she pulled them both into her arms, trying to avoid the licking puppy. ‘Stop arguing. We’re all here together, though we’re not safe, are we?’ she whispered. ‘Your father’s out there somewhere, your grandmother’s in here somewhere, and we’re not safe from either of them. And now I have to decide which path to take. Which path will lead us home.’ She pulled back, peering at them both. ‘Mirella will hear everything we say and think, so we’re not free to talk. Not yet.’

  Seeing Mirella sweep into the hall, Lotta straightened up, dropping the puppy to the ground, where it promptly pissed all over the floor.

  ‘Lotta!’ Mirella snapped. ‘You must train that puppy to do its business outside.’ Her eyes were quickly on Alys, who stood, grabbing Magnus’ hand, a wary look on her face. ‘And how are we all this morning? Ready to begin our new adventure together?’ Mirella had to force a smile, for she felt no joy, just a determination to cope with the mess Alari had made of things.

  Alys nodded reluctantly, not seeing any other option. She would stay in Orvala with Magnus, trying to find a way to escape, hoping to keep her mother out of her thoughts long enough to form a plan.

  Mirella laughed. ‘But you can’t, you won’t, and you have no need to. I will protect you and your children, Alys. I will keep you all safe, because I can. You may be a dreamer,
but you know as much as Lotta. And she is eight. I was trained in the great temple. In the home of the dreamers themselves. And more. I know more than any dreamer you may try to seek help from, Alys. Do you think there’s someone who knows how to keep me out of your dreams? Ha! I would like to see them try!’

  ‘Bjarni!’ Reinar cried. ‘What are they doing?’

  Bjarni had his eyes on the ships in their wake, many of which appeared confused by their lord’s sudden change of direction. He turned to Reinar, who was in a frantic state, striding up and down the deck, arms flailing. ‘Following us! Don’t worry!’ Though he frowned, turning back around, wanting to ensure that that was true, trying to count how many ships were still trailing behind them.

  Reinar was quickly by his side, eyes sharp in the gloomy morning light.

  ‘Perhaps we should head to shore? Talk about what’s happening?’

  ‘There’s no time!’

  Bjarni twisted his cloak around, fiddling with the pin, not sure how to say what was on his mind.

  ‘Just trust me,’ Reinar urged, sensing his unease. ‘You have to trust me, Bjarni. I can’t tell you everything, but what I know is that Sigurd’s in danger, and we’re the only ones who can save him.’

  ‘I trust you, of course I do, but perhaps we don’t need the entire fleet? Some could go back to Ottby?’

  Reinar shook his head. ‘No, we need everyone. Sigurd’s been captured by an army, so it’s going to take an army to save him.’

  Again, Bjarni wondered how his friend could be so certain, but Reinar wouldn’t even look at him. His eyes were trained on their fleet, willing them to follow him. And, so far, it appeared as though they were.

  But North?

  What were they going to find waiting for them in that frozen land?

  Tarl ripped hot meat off the bone, grinning at Ulrick, who still looked half asleep as he approached the fire. ‘Thinking about your wife’s tits, aren’t you? Her soft, warm tits!’ And laughing, he gnawed on the bone, sucking it clean before throwing it into the flames.

  Alvear grunted beside him, not wanting to think about his own wife.

  Ulrick wasn’t sure about either man, both of them looking at him with gleaming eyes and greasy lips.

  Alvear turned away, searching for ale. ‘Should’ve brought more women with us. I could’ve done with some warm tits last night.’

  Ulrick took a seat on a boulder, rubbing his grainy eyes. He felt on edge; had done since they’d left Orvala. It wasn’t that everything had gone wrong, first with Bergit and then with Lotta. It wasn’t the unsettling appearance of Mirella either. He felt wary of this new lord, who seemed so cavalier that he bordered on mad. And having served Jorek Vettel, Ulrick had no desire to tie himself to another madman.

  ‘Ulrick?’ Tarl had noticed his furrowed brow. His new man hadn’t spoken much since they’d left Orvala, and though Mirella had recommended the man highly, he was beginning to wonder if there was any value in his service. ‘You’re not a morning person, perhaps?’ And laughing again, he took a cup of ale from his silent steward, gulping it down until it was empty.

  ‘I’m not, that’s true. Though it’s not the morning that bothers me as much as where we are.’ Ulrick’s eyes moved past Tarl’s face, searching the trees. ‘My time up North taught me about enemies. The South is different now. You go somewhere in the South, and you can almost relax, sit back, enjoy your fire and your ale. But the North?’ Ulrick shrugged, having no appetite himself. ‘Why would the Lord of The Murk want to abandon his own ambitions to follow you south?’

  Tarl looked surprised, holding out his empty cup for a top-up, which his yawning steward, Uukko, quickly provided. ‘Because they’re smart enough to know what will happen if they don’t. My reputation isn’t one to be ignored, I assure you. Not in these parts. I’ve let Gudrum play his games for months, dancing around my borders as though we’re courting, but if he won’t bend to my will and make this alliance, then I’ll crush him. Hard.’

  Tarl Brava’s ego shone as bright as the sun, big enough to keep them all warm in the depths of winter, Ulrick was sure, yet, from experience, he knew how dangerous overconfidence could be. ‘I think every lord has enemies. Perhaps more than he realises? More than even his scouts can see.’

  ‘What enemies are these, Ulrick? Is there something I don’t know? Something I should know?’ Tarl leaned towards him, forgetting his ale, smile gone.

  Ulrick nibbled a dirty fingernail.

  He couldn’t go back to the South, so he had to survive in the North now, and among the contenders to rule the wild lands, Tarl Brava loomed the largest. Yet his bravado unsettled Ulrick, who was a lot less comfortable with risk-taking than he’d once been. ‘I know of men who want the throne more than you. Men with vengeance on their minds. Vengeance makes men the thirstiest of all.’ And Ulrick took the cup Uukko offered him, shocked by the intense chill of the ale.

  ‘Tell me,’ Tarl breathed, eyes full of intrigue. ‘Tell me about these men, Ulrick. I want to hear all about them.’

  They dragged Sigurd out of the tent to eat.

  Gudrum wanted to get a good look at him in the morning light, and he didn’t want Raf spending any more time alone in the tent with him. She was a pretty girl, and he hated sharing.

  Sigurd felt sick. The smell of the camp blew towards him on a stiff wind, and he snorted air out his nostrils, trying not to inhale as he hunched over on a log opposite Gudrum.

  ‘We have porridge, though it’s mainly water now. We’ve been camped here for some time, haven’t we?’ Gudrum laughed, eyes on Raf, who didn’t appear bothered by the cold or the insinuation that her dreams had led them astray.

  She’d heard the grumblings of cold men missing their women for days now, but her dreams were never wrong.

  They needed to wait, for everything Gudrum wanted was coming their way.

  ‘Though if Raf hadn’t led us here, we wouldn’t have found you,’ Gudrum realised, winking at the girl, whose head popped out of her giant fur, short black hair tangled in knotty braids. ‘And you are a prize indeed.’

  Sigurd shook with cold, wishing he had a thick fur himself.

  A servant brought over a bowl of sloppy porridge, and he took it in one hand, considering it with trepidation.

  ‘Eat!’ Gudrum grinned, standing and walking around the fire to join Sigurd on the log. ‘Eat and tell me again how you came to be here. Tell me how you stumbled into my trap all on your own.’

  Eddeth wished she had more to offer than a few mutterings that wouldn’t help them at all. She had dreamed of armies and men marching in deep snow, but she didn’t know who they were or where they were.

  It didn’t help anyone decide what to do.

  ‘We’ll be dead come sundown if we stay still!’ Ollo warned, jumping around, belly jiggling. He rubbed it mournfully, thinking how much smaller it was than when he’d foolishly left Slussfall. What had he been thinking? Believing he could restore his reputation? And for what? To die in a snowy field? Just a heap of frozen bones for the gods to laugh over? He shivered, stopping, shoulders rounding in a defeated heap.

  ‘Ollo’s right,’ Jonas agreed. ‘We have to do something today.’

  ‘Why don’t we split up?’ Ludo suggested, leaning so far over the fire that he was certain he would catch alight, though it would be warm, he thought, mind wandering. ‘I’ll stay, try and find a way to get Sigurd out. You all head north, find Alys.’

  Stina didn’t like the sound of that, though she was too cold to speak.

  Eddeth jumped up from her log, wanting to keep moving. ‘You won’t make it! You won’t! No, you won’t!’ Her voice was so loud that it scared a flock of rooks out of the trees.

  ‘Anyone else?’ Vik wondered moodily, his voice croaking. ‘Anyone else want to announce our presence? Invite our enemies to come and sit on our laps?’ He’d woken up with three plans, dismissing all of them with haste.

  There was no plan.

  No plan at all.

 
‘I say we get moving now. Right now,’ Ollo decided, waiting to be yelled at.

  But Vik nodded. ‘I agree.’

  Ludo was quickly on his feet. ‘What? No! We can’t leave Sigurd! He wouldn’t leave us!’

  ‘What we can’t do is die, Ludo,’ Jonas said quietly, agreeing with Vik and Ollo. ‘We stay here, we’ll die, and Sigurd wouldn’t want that. Reinar wouldn’t want that. Nor would Alys.’ He sighed, full of regret for letting his granddaughter slip out of his grasp again. ‘If we stay here any longer, we’ll die, and if we try to rescue Sigurd, we’ll die.’

  ‘Why?’ Ludo wasn’t about to leave his best friend behind. ‘You wouldn’t abandon Vik. You wouldn’t!’

  Jonas knew that was true. ‘But he’d want me to.’

  Vik nodded. ‘I would. And so would you, Ludo. You know it. There’ll be a way to get him back, and Sigurd’s smart enough to stay safe until we do. But for now, we need to get out of this weather. It’s only getting worse. And we have to find Alys and Magnus.’

  Ludo knew they were all right.

  In his heart, he knew it was what Sigurd would want.

  But he thought of Reinar, and he closed his eyes.

  Reinar was acting so strangely that Elin didn’t know how to get through to him, but she certainly didn’t want to sail north just because he’d had a dream. She left Reinar in the bow, walking to the stern to join Bjarni, who looked just as unsettled. ‘What is Reinar thinking, believing this dream?’ Elin whispered. ‘I don’t understand. He’s not a dreamer.’

  Bjarni couldn’t help but agree.

  ‘Can’t you talk to him?’

  Bjarni shrugged. ‘Reinar’s no fool. He’s not reckless either. He wouldn’t be taking us north without good reason.’

 

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